A Rose For Emily
by Nancy J. Lisse
Summary: A single rose. Red. Flawless.   My entry for the Chit Chat On Author's Corner - Round 8 Valentine's Day Gift Exchange - For mrytale2-5


My entry for the CCOAC Round 8 Valentine's Day Gift Challenge. I apologize my gift is a few hours late, I hope everyone one enjoys, especially mrytale2-5.

For: mrytale2-5  
Morgan/Prentiss  
Your Song (Elton John); red roses, champagne, candles  
Disclaimer: I own the plot direction only. AU. Oneshot.

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**A Rose For Emily**

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She was up to her eyeballs in paperwork. There was no way she'd be going home at a decent hour tonight. After making a quick call to her neighbor, assuring that her cat, Sergio, would be fed, she sunk lower in her chair, resting her head back and closing her eyes.

_Just five minutes. I just need to rest my eyes._

But five minutes turned into ten, which turned into twenty. And before she knew it, she was thrown back into consciousness by the irritating sound of her cell phone.

She had it set to vibrate, as always, but the hard plastic of the phone against the metal desk emitted enough sound to startle her.

The bullpen was darker than it had been before she fell asleep. It was nearing 8 o'clock and just about everyone else had gone home.

Emily glanced at her phone. A new text message flashed across the screen.

It was from Garcia. Animated hearts danced around the lit screen, a cartoon cupid pierced one of the hearts with its arrow. Music hummed quietly as a poem scrolled from top to bottom.

Valentine's Day, she had completely forgot. Well, it's understandable, considering the last time she actually celebrated the holiday was in high school.

Garcia was probably out with Kevin, JJ with Will. Hotch was most likely spending time with his son, while Morgan found companionship lying next to a beautiful woman. But to her, it was just another day.

A yawn escaped her as she realized she didn't even make a dent in the pile of forms and reports overflowing, practically onto the floor. The overwhelming pile nearly caused her to miss an unexpected sight.

A single rose. Red. Flawless.

Tentatively, Emily put the flower to her face.

The sweet scent filled her nose as she quickly glanced around. There was no movement anywhere in the room, the only light seeping from under Rossi's closed door.

_At least one other person didn't have plans tonight._

It gave her the chills to know that someone had been standing next to her as she slept in her chair. A little bit creepy, maybe, but kind of exciting at the same time. She couldn't help but smile.

Then she noticed the small piece of paper still lying on her desk, a masculine scribble could barely be detected in the dim light of her lamp.

"_I hope you don't mind that I put down in words; _

_How wonderful life is while you're in the world."_

_My place, 9 o'clock_

_Derek_

Well, that was certainly unexpected. An almost imperceptible feeling fluttered in her chest. A smile once again graced her lips, bringing the rose to her face again, twirling it between her fingers. The soft pedals tickled the tip of her nose and her cheeks.

Emily read over the words he wrote at least a dozen times. They sounded so familiar to her. It wasn't until she started humming softy was she able to match the words to a beat, and the beat to a song.

Elton John had always been one of her mother's favorites; she played his music often. Naturally, she found comfort in his music. It always gave her sense of home. Emily wasn't one for nostalgic tendencies, but it was comforting to take something with her when she left the nest, so to speak.

And still, years later, on her worst days, there's nothing she would rather do than put in a record and sink nose-deep into a hot bath, candles and all.

"Secret admirer?"

Rossi's voice cut through her reverie. He was standing on the landing, arms resting on the railing as he leaned forward.

"I'm not sure," she replied, looking up at him.

In all honesty, she wasn't.

"Of all days to find out, this is it," he smiled. He had his shoulder bag slung over his left shoulder, blazer buttoned, leather gloves.

He continued as he made his way down the few stairs that led to her.

"If there's anything I've learned from my marriages… it would be _not _letting opportunities pass you by."

He glanced over at her as he made his way to the glass doors.

"Goodnight Emily."

And then he was gone.

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The house was dark when she pulled up into the driveway. Snow still covered the front walk, where the sun never hits.

It was a standing joke between the two of them, and she never thought she would actually do it. A muffled laugh escaped her, thinking how cliché it was. But, regardless, she knocked three times.

_Knock three times on the ceiling if you want me._

It didn't take long for Morgan to answer the door, not bothering to turn on any lights, neither in the house, nor on the porch where she stood.

"You're late," his voice was low, mysterious. His chiseled features were hidden in the shadows. And she felt as vulnerable as ever, standing under the discretion of the moonlight.

"Fashionably, of course," she lied.

She was still in her work clothes.

"I almost talked myself out of coming here."

He moved out of the doorway and extended a hand to her. Taking her hand in his, he pulled her inside.

The room was dim and smelled of freshly lit incense. A floral scent, which surprised her. Apparently, Morgan had tapped into his romantic side.

The words to the song she had read on paper not even an hour ago soon made their way to her ears.

"_Anyway the thing is what I really mean; _

_Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen." _

"There's no reason for you to be alone tonight," he said. She could detect the signature 'Morgan flirting' tone in his voice, but at the same time he was serious, and genuine.

He pushed the door closed behind them and then grabbed two long-stemmed glasses from the small coffee table on his left. Handing Emily a glass of champagne, he leaned in closer. Their cheeks brushed, his hot breath caressed her neck.

"Be mine," he whispered into her ear.

It took a moment for her to regain her equilibrium. He had damn well knocked her straight off her feet. The loud thump of her heart nearly burst her eardrums.

For the first time in a long time, Emily felt all hot and bothered inside. Butterflies were an understatement; there was a goddamn stampede in her stomach.

Reaching her arms around his neck, successfully keeping him close.

As her free hand touched the nape of his neck, she would swear her skin had been set on fire.

She didn't know what this was. She didn't know what would happen at work in the morning, or if whatever they were about to start would ever work. But in the moment, nothing else mattered except the here and now. She needed to feel again.

"Depends."

She pulled her head back.

Their noses almost touching.

"Are you gonna kiss me or not?"

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**The End**

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Alright, I'm glad I finally got this done, real life is busy. But I would feel terrible if my author didn't get their fic gift! So I hope you like it, as well as everyone else.

My song prompt was Elton John's "Your Song", but there are two other song references in here. Bonus points if you can point them out!

Reviews are appreciated. Thanks!

Jessalynn


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